


Partners In Prime

by Cranky_Tanky



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: And then they kiss, Awkwardness, M/M, The very best, also...Fortnite mention, becoming boyfriends through the power of pokemon music, btw there aren't actually any spoilers for lost light in this i just wanted to make a joke, gotta catch em all i guess, im very good at writing, it's just swerve and misfire being Themselves, like no one ever was, not sure, or LL24, specifically Eterna City, the title is a LL25 joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 09:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19059652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_Tanky/pseuds/Cranky_Tanky
Summary: Swerve and Misfire have really started hanging out together a lot lately. Like, a lot a lot! Sure, it's fun, and they're great friends, but what if there was something more? Or at least... what if there could be something more. Like, they like each other. Like. They're in love. You know.





	Partners In Prime

“So… what is it?” Misfire asked, listening to the gentle clopping beat that ran under the calm, cheerful, flutelike notes. It was a pretty song, but Swerve was leaning on the bar, with his chin propped in his fists, wide mouth beaming and showing his toothy little grin. He had a great grin. Stellar. His two front teeth had a big ol’ gap in them and it was too cute. Misfire fumbled for his straw with his mouth and took a slurp as he started to get lost in his own internal monologuing again. He barely caught Swerve’s answer.

 

“It’s uh, from some human media,” the bartender said. The bar was quiet save for the gentle music. The perks of befriending the bartender was that you got private drinking sessions with your buddy. “Pokemon. The game, that is. Uh, one of them. Not the movies.”

 

“They got movies too? I think I’ve heard of it. Is it like Fortnite?”

 

Swerve busted out laughing, a great heaving belly laugh. His big hands actually drifted to his belly and Misfire was struck dumb wondering how someone so small could be so big and take up so much space and be so full of life. “Uh, not at all!” 

 

Swerve spent the next two hours explaining pokemon, and Misfire barely noticed his concentration never wavering. He stayed absolutely rooted to the spot like he’d been welded to his seat, eyes wide as he nodded, occasionally forgetting there was a straw in his mouth and taking it with him. His cheeks were hot, but he was pretty sure that was the engex. Although he’d barely started his drink and it had no engex. Swerve was a good talker. A great talker. It was hard to keep Misfire’s attention like this, it was one of the things the bright magenta jet liked about the little guy. They were just two rivets from the same toolbag, honest. Misfire moved his hand to prop his cheek on it and smile, eyelids falling a little, and his elbow knocked his drink clear off the table. With a mounting sense of horror, the jet watched it fall in slow motion and crash to the ground, splattering and scattering everywhere. The response was instantaneous, from both of them. They both cried out and dove for it, bumping heads on the way down with a resounding  **_CLANK_ ** as they both fell on their asses, rubbing their foreheads.

 

“Sorry,” Misfire grumbled, hoping he wouldn’t have a red paint transfer. Red just wasn’t his color. But Swerve looked nice in it. Swerve, across from him on the floor, was grumbling as well.

 

“No, no, it’s my fault,” he said, before starting to pick up the shards of glass dipped in drink between them. Misfire puzzled over this as he helped, distracted whenever their fingers brushed. He was so foggy today, what was up with that?

 

“I was the one who knocked it over,” he stated, humming along to the music a little. When he looked up from picking up shards, Swerve was staring at him, his bright blue visor softly glowing. Misfire felt his cheeks heat even more and smiled, glancing away. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Swerve said, and the clinking of glass sounded as he hurriedly got back to work. “Just never had a friend like you, if I’m being honest.”

 

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

 

Swerve scoffed as he finished picking up the glass and tottered over to the trash can, dumping it in. Misfire followed, curiously, and watched Swerve’s lips pout. “People don’t love me,” he said, “they laugh at my jokes. There’s a difference.”

 

Misfire pondered on it, thinking of the Scavengers. They all laughed at each other’s jokes and loved each other. “Well, I do.”

 

“Huh?” Swerve said. Misfire abruptly lost all his brain cells. 

 

“What?”

 

“What’d you say?”

 

“I said I love you. Like, I mean, like you. You’re nice. You’re funny. We’re good for each other,” Misfire blabbered, wondering when his mouth had decided to disconnect from his brain and go off running on its own. “You know, buddies? Good pals? Great friends? Partners in crime? Crusadercons and all that?”

 

The air hung expectantly, as Swerve’s mouth hung open slightly, pink covering his cheeks. Misfire laughed a little nervously and put his hand on the back of his head, rubbing. That had come out all garbled and weird, and now Swerve was going to think Misfire was some kind of Con creep. Then, Swerve beamed. “Hell yeah, Crusadercons for the win!” He leaned forwards to give Misfire a great big squeeze around the waist. "You know you’re the only person who likes that name. Everyone else thought it was stupid.”

 

“It’s good,” Misfire said helplessly, caught up and distracted by how warm and comfortable Swerve was to hug. He gave great hugs. It was just then that Misfire realized the music was still looping in the background and Swerve would probably want to turn it off so he could shut down the bar and get them both back to their habs for the night. “It’s funny.”

 

“My nickname at the academy was ‘Shut the Hell Up,’” Swerve mumbled into the general vicinity of Misfire’s chest or torso.

 

“That’s okay,” Misfire said, “mine in the army was ‘The Munchies.’ They also named me ‘Empty Helm.’ ‘Space Cadet.’ That kinda thing.”

 

“That’s cruel.”

 

“No more so than ‘Shut The Hell Up,” Misfire said, and Swerve separated, holding him at arm’s length as he beamed.

 

“You’re so nice to me,” the minibot said, and Misfire smiled back. Swerve was just really cute, he was. They separated from the hug, and Misfire opened his mouth to say something else, until he planted a foot in the spilled drink and slipped backwards, accidentally yanking Swerve with him, who squealed.

 

Their faces crashed together as Misfire hit the ground and so did their lips in a very crude version of a kiss. They stayed like that for a second or two before both of them realized what was actually going on, and they had most definitely not just started kissing on the floor. Not at all.

 

Swerve got up and helped Misfire up, almost as pink as his friend’s plating. “I am…  _ so _ sorry,” he mumbled, and Misfire mirrored his awkward shuffling.

 

“No, no,” he said, “I am. So uh, it’s late, huh? I’ll uh, I’ll help you clean up so we can go get some sleep!”

 

“Sounds good, uh, partner,” Swerve said, and wandered over to grab a rag from the bar to come clean with. Misfire cocked his head and lifted a brow.

 

“Partner?”

 

“Felt right,” Swerve explained awkwardly, kneeling to wipe up the floor. “Stupid, I know.”

 

Misfire fell quiet, at an odd loss of words for once. That song was still playing quietly in the background and it seemed to make everything a little softer. The jet was stuck like a busted playback device thinking about that gap between the bartender’s two front teeth (which he most certainly  _ hadn’t _ been counting with his tongue for a second there.) “I, um.”

 

Swerve paused, casting his bright blue visor up to Misfire’s face.

 

“I, um…” Misfire paused, shuffling, and decided to just blurt it out. “I like you.” He regretted it immediately and tried to fill the silence. “Partner.” When that got no reaction he simply opted for a very terrible grimace attempting to be a big smile. Swerve beamed.

 

“I like you too, partner!” he said, and went back to cleaning up. When all was done he stood up and tossed the rag onto the bar to be cleaned up later. “Here, let me lock up and stuff and we can walk back to your hab together?”

 

“Yeah,” Misfire said, quietly, “That’d be… that’d be nice.”

 

“Something wrong, bud?”

 

“Well -- I -- um -- when I said I like you, I meant, well…” Misfire grimaced again and lifted his brows and windmilled his arms in a forward “go on,” motion. “You know,” he finished lamely.

 

Swerve’s smile turned decidedly more soft and he waddled up to Misfire to grab his hands. “I figured,” he said, “and for what it’s worth, I like you too. Like, you know.”

 

“Really? I mean, not ‘really’ really, it’s not totally unbelievable because anything can happen, but it’s me and it’s you and we’re --”

 

Swerve leaned up and pressed a gentle finger to Misfire’s mouth, smile blooming further to show his lovely gapped grin. “I’m the only one allowed to ruin anything by talking around here,” he said. Both were quiet for a moment. “Not that this is ruined. That was a joke. I was joking. Ha ha. Uh. Anyways. I’ll clean up and we can uh… we can… I can walk you back?”

 

“Walk me back,” Misfire said, and started to smile uncontrollably. “Yeah. I’d like that, little buddy.”

 

When they left the bar arm-in-arm for the night, Swerve almost forgot to turn the gentle music playing in the background off.

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of the cutest most self-indulgent things ive ever written


End file.
